Death Declaration
by Airrei
Summary: IzayaxShizuo. Chrysanthemum, the flower of death, the funeral flower, placed bluntly on his desk. Violence is the answer to symbolism, but beyond it, maybe there is a glimpse of reason. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

To Shii-chan! Happy birthday (almost: April 14th).

I love you April birthday-ers.

-Note- Raijin is what Raira Academy used to be called before it formed an alliance with a nearby school. I don't know who's class who was in so sorry if I got it wrong.

Pairing is IzayaxShizuo. Doesn't look like that or anything like it tho... xD

* * *

**Death Declaration**

* * *

Glistening into a brilliant shade of honey, the yellow petals melted into the orange center. The chrysanthemum, however beautiful in all its glory, held a meaning of death. This single funeral flower sat, its face peeking out from a clear vase. It clearly held no water, and the stem stubbed the bottom desperately, as if it were suffocating. This vase had been placed on a certain table of the third year classroom of Raijin Academy.

It was a petty and old bullying method often used on meeker characters who's existence was often shunned by others to the point that they were thought of to be better off gone altogether. Yet, it wouldn't have made sense to use that example on Heiwajima Shizuo who was now staring, no, glaring down at this nuisance. Shizuo was not meek, and if he wasn't the opposite of the word, he definitely held some dominance by just being there. Normally, he wouldn't radiate this kind of hostility out in the open, but this treatment set him off. Especially when he had a pretty good idea who would dare to do this type of crap to him of all people, and he was most likely right. No, it wasn't a sign of bullying in that case. It was a challenge, declaring his upcoming death. A game that the two played so well and it was known throughout the school to keep away from it at all costs.

The classroom was absolutely silent. Most students sat shaking in their chairs, unable to move away because they didn't have the nerve to make any noise. Some lucky ones had evacuated earlier and were now watching nervously from the windows of the hallway, and the teachers had all the reasons in the world to let them do so. Each and every one of them cursed their fate when the desk violently plummeted down. No one saw it go up, but every eye followed its descent.

Scrambling feet and people toppling over one another meshed with the sound of splintering wood and crashing glass. He did it again, not being able to control his anger. Every time the image of the sadistic bastard smirking gloatingly over his pranks popped into his mind, Shizuo wouldn't care if he destroyed the whole building. He just wanted to beat the shit out of the infuriating lowlife. It also vexed him because somewhere in his mind, he knew. He knew that Orihara Izaya was using him for his own entertainment by making him use this kind of violence that Shizuo hated himself over. It was obvious what kind of results could be obtained from irritating this blonde, and Izaya went ahead and did it anyway.

Shizuo spun around sharply, sweeping a glance at the fleeing crowd. Surprisingly, Shinra wasn't there. That childhood friend of his had been quick to be pleased in observing his limitless prowess, but today he wasn't gawking with a stupid grin on his face. Had he fled? Something seemed oddly fishy about this.

Each step he took to the next classroom seemed to escalate in anger, and the poor ground cried out in deeper pain. The blonde gripped the handle of the door in his hand, but instead of sliding it to the side, it came clean off. A moment of intense silence followed. Shizuo, with half a door in his hands, Izaya, sitting cross legged on someone's table in an empty room. An amused smirk was plastered across the mastermind's face, looking down on his fellow third year with an air of arrogance that just couldn't be wiped down. He hopped down easily, and Shizuo followed closely with his narrowing eyes at each step this person…this being took.

Izaya merely paced, breaking their eye contact and staring ahead, as if he was doing some serious thinking. Tapping his chin lightly with his index finger, he stopped midway and tossed his head back to finally reconnect their gazes. He bent his expression so only half his face was still smiling, one eye half closed due to the slight curve of his mouth. In a tone which was somewhere between mocking and exasperated, he spoke. "Ne, Shizu-chan. How long are you going to stare at me like that?"

Shizuo cracked. No, it was the door he was holding. His hand twisted in ways that might not have been humanly possible, and streaks of lines, starting from the root of the handle started to grow like veins all over the wood. Pulverized pieces momentarily clouded the environment as specs of dust before the blonde charged in, fist first towards the brunette.

Izaya tucked his hands into his pockets before turning swiftly to the side. He jumped back, as the bull knocked table after table in that row like a set of dominos. The mischievous boy chuckled briefly. "Oh wow. Think about what would have happened if I didn't dodge that! I could have died. Hahaha, _wouldn't it be unfortunate_?"

They both could see the angry veins that began to form its latticework over Shizuo's clenched fists. He turned around agonizingly, and Izaya could see it had made its way all over his face as well. This seemed to brighten the mood of the brunette even more. _Tsk, his only redeeming feature ruined._

Shizuo twitched and cracked his neck to the side. He took one step forward as his rival took one step back. "Oi. Izaya. What was that damned thing about, eh!? So you can't come out and speak your mind? You piece of shit!"

He grabbed a leg of some remaining desk and held it over his head, uncaring for the spilling contents of books and stationary as he hurled it. The brunette ducked and charged forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets at last and switching his knife open. Because of his earlier action, Shizuo was unable to pull back in time, but he managed to block with his arm and swiped it sideways at the flea. Gashes of blood spilled around the area as the knife made contact and embedded itself in tough flesh. Izaya guessed a few broken ribs as he crashed backwards into a row of desks, but rolled himself over in time to dodge a bloody knife being pelted back at him.

Izaya grasped the handle of the knife and pulled it out of the ground quickly. He stood unsteadily supported by the wall, and gasped out painfully before laughing. "Oh Shizu-chan! What are we going to do with you? I guess you didn't like my present."

"What a pity." A shadow crossed his face when he voiced this in a mere whisper, but it was instantly replaced by a hysteric laughter. "Ahah..Hahaha!"

"Bastard…what the hell is wrong with you?" Shizuo grimaced, spitting to the side. He didn't even seem to notice the blood running freely over his arms like a menacing waterfall of wine. The sickening sight of a man going crazy in front of him just fueled his resolve to pound his face even more.

But, before he could take another step, Izaya took a piece of broken wood laying around and smashed it at the window. Shards sliced bits of the inflictor's cheeks and neck, but he didn't seem to care one bit. Instead he hopped on, stepping on broken glass and looked back at the blonde. "Shinra probably evacuated everyone by now… so, unfortunately I'm going to end it here. You know, in return I want something red. Oh, make it a bouquet, even! Haha, if you don't want to buy it, you can even pick it off the street!"

Then he jumped. Shizuo rushed over, only to see the sly brunette making a trail of uneven lines along the side of the school building with his knife. Safely landing from what was the height of three stories, the maniac laughed blatantly as he scurried away.

Cursing under his breath repeatedly, Shizuo finished it off with a deeply aggravated scream. "IIIIIIZAAAAAAAAAAYAAAAAAAAA!!!!"

He panted deeply, still shaking in both arms from anger when he saw Shinra in the horizon. The bespectacled male waved his arms furiously, as if telling Shizuo to get out of there and _fast. _Confused, the blonde temporarily forgot his temper, but he started to smell something smoking. Looking down, there was a piece of string that had been lighted, making a trail of black as it burned down, and walking over to peek out of the hallway, he realized it was headed towards a bunch of drum containers.

_Shit._

Closing dark brown eyes for a second in frustration, he reopened them and sprinted out the window.

* * *

News of Raijin Academy reopening spread throughout the media for a fleeting period of time. No one actually guessed what had happened, but no one wanted to question it either. Most of the students even transferred out, but the select few who remained regretted coming back. Izaya was, however, not the majority in any way. As he opened the classroom to take a look at his seat, he was shocked. Then, he grinned, and even chuckled. Sure, the person called Heiwajima Shizuo was erratic, but Izaya never considered him too smart. This, though, made him rethink his opinion just a little.

Sitting, or rather almost toppling off the side of his desk was a drum container. Watered in gasoline, twisted _red_ signposts showed their faces gathered in a perfect bouquet.

And somehow, before taking it as what it should be -a declaration of death, Izaya would keep this for ages to come. A first present from his Shizu-chan, also his first bouquet, which conveniently would never wither away.

* * *

Um. I wanted to write fluff. I swear. So I will and finish this story next chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

I always veer off the path of the fluff into something more…strange.

-Note- Concept is still the same, a bit into the future. Some mild spoilers on Celty's head.

Wtf is logic...if someone knows, please tell me. xD Oh dear...  
Special thanks to Yumi for editing.

* * *

**Declaration of Death **_pt.2_

* * *

"Shizu-chan…" Izaya merely proceeded to stand from his vinyl swivel chair, poised, seemly unaffected by the fact that an uninvited guest managed to break into his office. Most likely, security had nothing on the blonde, and the information broker had to consider serious threat removals. His crimson hues would flicker hastily to and hastily back from the towering bookcase. They lined one side of wall to this office, holding carefully chosen tomes of history and mythology as well as a couple of encyclopedias that were placed in scattered positions without following any kind of alphabetical pattern. Behind choice volumes, a beautiful head slept in a glass capsule, something the brunette would want to keep a secret. Sliding his hands deep into both pockets, he grasped the smooth handle of his ever trusted switchblade. He didn't know when he would need it, but he was ready. Always.

"What an _un_pleasant surprise," Izaya carried on, with sarcastic optimism, watching his rival with weary caution. Shizuo was winded, but the blonde seemed to be trying to hide this fact, sucking in air and holding it for seconds longer then he knew he should. The informer watched this, hoping for a mental stalemate. He couldn't afford for Shizuo to find out about the dullahan's head. That thought alone kept him unnaturally still, waiting for an explanation for the sudden intrusion. In fact, it was a miracle that the blonde hadn't already tried to throw anything at him yet. Izaya sensed that there was going to be at least some talk.

"What did you do with it…?" A low growl penetrated the thick air, and Izaya leaned against his desk, his vision fleeing off the blonde in defense.

The brunette's mind was already contemplating how to make a run for it when he replied in a obscure manner, full of protective denial. "I don't know what you're talking about. Don't you have work to do? Or did you get fired again-"

Izaya had to stop himself. He didn't want the protozoan angry right now, but the look on Shizuo's face said that he was already beyond that point. That was exactly why the informer couldn't stand the bodyguard. He could not be reasoned with, and worse, when he reached a certain limit, there was no telling what he'd do. Shizuo paced forward in a few easy steps and clutched the other by his collar. "What…did…you…do…with…it…?"

Their eyes were forced to meet in that state, and Izaya sighed, knowing denying things further would just lead to mindless pummeling and destruction of property. Maybe he could buy time. "Who tipped you off with such nonsense?"

"Celty." The blonde grumbled. "Why did you keep it?"

_Huh? _Well that was strange. Izaya tipped his head to the side in the most comfortable position he was allowed to manage in that state, and pondered. "First of all, I don't know what you're talking about. I've said that, and that part is important. Second of all, if Celty was curious, why didn't she come herself?"

Shizuo tossed the brunette backwards and he crossed his arms over his chest. The flea's back landed on a corner and he winced before scrambling back up. "Why would she?"

Okay. Now Izaya was genuinely confused. It was her own head, wasn't it? Shizuo didn't have any business snooping around for her sake when it was clearly obvious that Celty would be able to overpower him if she was in her serious mode. The woman couldn't die for crying out loud, and he was just a human. When the brunette snapped out of his trance, he found himself facing a rampaging Shizuo, who took that time to start destroying chunks of his office. His sofa had been turned over and the television was pulled out of its den, cable ripped apart in the middle rather then from the sockets. The blonde was about to open one suspicious looking closet when Izaya rushed over and shouted. "What on earth are you looking for, idiot?! …And don't open that, it's not safe!"

But the blonde denied his enemy's warning, for who would have thought that Izaya would worry about anyone's wellbeing? So the door was opened, and out came an avalanche of items. The informer watched anxiously as board games, racquets, and even clay pots (for hotpot usage) came spilling out. Before anyone could ask him who in the right mind did he have to share all these two to six player activities with, the brunette wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

Spitting a piece of lego out of his mouth, Shizuo started to dig himself out of the mess. In an extremely calm yet dangerous voice, he groaned. "Hey flea bastard."

Reluctantly, "…Yes…?"

"Why the fuck do you still have this?" Out of the rubble, he pulled out some extremely battered signposts, grouped together in one, bound by tough rope.

Izaya slowly removed his hands from his face and stared. _Oh. Oh that._

* * *

"Er…and how are you and Shinra anyway?" Shizuo changed the subject when Celty started to frantically recount her trauma about the alien type, little gray. The blonde found himself awkward at comforting girls, or anyone for that matter. He guessed Shinra was a safe topic, and at the same time, called out to the underground doctor mentally to help him out in this situation. He would probably know what to do about his girlfriend.

Celty paused for a moment and snuggled her shoulders closer, her helmet tilting down, as if embarrassed. She slowly lifted her slim fingers back on her PDA and clicked gracefully. "We're doing just fine. Thanks for asking. Shinra would help me right? I'm sure if we were to encounter them, he would be the one to dissect them instead."

The blonde furrowed his brows and covered over the sunglasses with his hand, wondering whether to agree or try another attempt to stray from this subject. He definitely didn't want to imagine his childhood friend hovering over an operation table laughing in glee at his imported victims. "H-hey Celty, aren't you hungry?"

_Oops._

After an awkward silence, "Sorry………"

"Nononono! It happens," Celty tapped, then waved her arms frantically into the air, her helmet bobbling up and down. She quickly searched for a topic in her mind and smacked them down on her PDA without a second thought. "And? You and Izaya? Did you kill him yet?"

Shizuo cringed at the name, but he held back. An eye for an eye, he supposed. Sighing deeply, he replied with renowned gusto. "No. That little bastard! He keeps getting away. But I swear, if he sets foot in Ikebukuro again, he'll be dead."

The dullahan's fingers brushed the lower part of her helmet, where her mouth would have been if she had a head. She shook slightly as if giggling, and patted him on his back. "You guys never get bored do you? Well, it's a good thing to keep a promise, no matter how weird that promise is."

"Promise?"

"Yes," Celty typed. "Sorry if I wasn't supposed to know, but I was curious as to why he wanted me to help him carry a bunch of signposts back to his place."

"_What_?" Shizuo stood up.

* * *

Izaya was unsure if he should be glad that Celty's head wasn't the main objective, or to be mildly embarrassed that Shizuo had still remembered about this. He plastered an incredibly forced smile on his face to hide this fact; while shrugging, "It reminded me of you."

For a moment, there was silence, each staring rather expressionlessly at the other in utter awkwardness.

As if suddenly deciding something, Shizuo's grin was formed, equally forced, his anger brimming all the way over to his fingertips as he started to sit up, creating some indents into the supporting floor. "Flea bastard, you must be one hell of a retard if you kept this knowing what it is."

"Death declaration," The informer exhaled in exasperation. "Exactly what I intended with my own present for you."

"Then…if you kept it after all these years, you were waiting for me to kill you." The blonde loomed dangerously close, his rough hand fitting tightly over his prey's neck. Skinny as it was, it had endured countless damages, though the pale complexion refused to show it outwardly. Even so, Shizuo could easily snap it and end it all for the brunette if he chose to do so. Knowing this, Izaya still smiled, albeit uncomfortably, tracing over the knife in his pocket. It wouldn't do any good since there was no way it could do any serious damage, but it still put the man at ease feeling its familiar surface.

The pain around his reddening neck didn't deteriorate any of the informer's sense of calm. He supposed that getting out of here alive might be possible, still. Then again, he liked to play with fire. "Shizu-chan. Why are you saying this now when you've been trying ever since we met?"

"Shuddup, I'm killing you, but you won't die," and the marks deepening around the circumference and the brunette's subtle gasps of choking proved this fact. "But I'll kill you anyway."

"What kind of reasoning-"

"You," Shizuo cut him off. "Can't complain."

Izaya raised an eyebrow in annoyance, since he was unable to voice out his thoughts anymore. He simply stared, perplexed, trying to keep some air channeling, wondering why his neck was still intact.

"Being dead means you have no say over your own body anymore," Shizuo answered. "I'm going to kill you dead, and you consented to that. Which means…"

And Izaya would blush before their lips met midair, his mind processing the situation faster then it occurred. The blonde pulled away, and the grip over the shorter male started to loosen.

"You can't complain no matter what I do to you."

Izaya stood in shock, his pale face turning a flaming red to match his eyes. He scrambled for words in panic. "Shi…Shizu-chan, you idiot! That's not logical! I hate you!"

Shizuo twitched. "Then why didn't you fucking throw it away?"

The informer involuntarily fell silent, trying to fumble around in his mind for an excuse. There was none that seemed to fit the situation without contradicting himself. Casting his eyes downward in defeat, he muttered. "A promise…"

The blonde looked confused, but Izaya didn't continue his sentence.

After all that, he wasn't about to say that Shizuo was the only one that was allowed to kill him. That back then, he also wanted to be the only one that could kill the blonde. That the signpost was a reminder of such nonsense, not to mention the only entity of their twisted relationship. A promise to try and kill each other until the day that one of them died.


End file.
